All Acts Of Pleasure: A Rowan Gant Investigation (21 page)

The cold hollowness that was drilling into
the pit of my stomach started to extend its fingers outward through
my body, and I felt like I wanted to vomit. All I could do was
stare back at her with what I am sure was a mix of incredulity and
utter shock on my face. The mask of confused emotions was entirely
lost on her though because she was still staring at the table, not
me.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to wheeze
in a deep breath as stars started to dance in front of my eyes. My
brain ran up and down the scale of emotions, randomly choosing one,
trying it on for size, and then discarding it for another.
Happiness wasn’t one that ever made it into that mix. Finally,
after the fifth or sixth emotional costume change, I found myself
fitting comfortably into anger and I remained there.

“File for…” I blurted, unable to complete the
sentence for fear of actually manifesting the act if I dared speak
the word aloud. “What the hell are you talking about?! Have you
lost your mind?!”

Felicity had yet to raise her eyes from the
table, and even that jibe didn’t force her to do so.

She muttered quietly, “You could probably use
that when you file.”

“Use it my ass!” I snapped. “And, I’m not
going to file for a goddammed…you know…one of those things.”

“Divorce.”

“Don’t say it!”

“Calm down, Rowan. It’s just a word.”

“Maybe so, but words and magick go hand in
hand, especially with you…either way, I’m not going there.”

“But…”

I cut her off. “But nothing. Who told you to
do this anyway? Have you been talking to your father or
something?”

“No.”

“Was it Jackie? Because if it was, she’s
fired. I’ll get you a different attorney.”

“No,” she returned, shaking her head but
still not looking up. “No one told me to do this. It’s my
idea.”

“Your idea?”

“Aye.”

“Your idea. No outside influence. Just poof,
you want a divorce.”

“I already said yes.”

“So, are you trying to tell me you really and
truly want one of those?”

She paused then nodded her head slightly.

“No,” I admonished. “You need to say it.”

“Yes.” There was no mistaking the marked
hesitation that came before she choked out the word.

“Yeah, right. You’ll excuse me if I don’t
believe you.”

“Well, I do.”

“Okay, if you want it so bad then why don’t
you file for it yourself?”

“I’m a little busy in case you haven’t
noticed.”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” I quipped. “So you
came up with this idea all by yourself?”

“Aye. I’ve already told you that.”

“Okay. How about you fill me in on the
particulars, like, oh, I don’t know,
why
?”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

“The
right
thing to do? Honey, this isn’t like leaving
a note on someone’s windshield after you accidentally ding their
car door on the supermarket parking lot.”

“Do you really think I don’t know that?”

“If you do, then get serious and tell me why?
Have you suddenly stopped loving me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well, it has to be something. As far as I
can recall, I’m not abusive…or a deadbeat…I’m not unfaithful, and
I’m certain you know that. You’ll tell me when I start getting
warm, right?”

She expelled a frustrated breath and shot
back, “Look, I just want a divorce. That’s all.”

I know for a fact I visibly cringed at the
word. The pain in my over-tightened muscles broadcast it loud and
clear.

“Not good enough,” I replied. “You’re going
to have to tell me the real why.”

“I just did.”

“Guess again, sweetheart. It’s not going to
fly. Give me one good reason for you suddenly wanting this. Did you
find someone else?”

“NO! Of course not.”

Felicity was a Taurus, through and through,
and she manifested the stereotypical characteristics of the star
sign often. However, out of all those idiosyncrasies, the aptly
attributed bull-headedness was her most omnipresent. She had
out-stubborned me on more than one occasion, and I truly feared she
would do everything in her power to accomplish that now.

However, as pragmatic and obstinate as she
could be, I wasn’t going to allow her to win. I had emotion on my
side, and I was going to appeal to it in every sense, no matter
what. I knew this wasn’t something she truly desired; I just had to
get her to admit it.

“Then give me a reason.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Rowan…”

“Felicity…”

“Don’t push me on this, then. Just take my
word for it.”

“Not happening.”

“I’m not going to talk about it.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Damn your eyes, Rowan Gant!”

“Don’t damn something you don’t even have the
guts to look at,” I returned harshly.

“Don’t do this, Rowan.”

“After what you just asked me to do? Don’t
ask me for favors. You don’t deserve any.”

I hated playing the bad guy. I hated pulling
her strings by offering up such a callous remark. And, I hated the
cruelty of what I might be forced to say if she didn’t give in
soon. But, more than any of those things, I hated that she had put
me in this position as she was trying to stonewall her way through
it. So, I gave in and played the wild card. I would push her as
hard as my churning stomach would let me and hope that it would be
enough.

Fortunately, her own emotional resistance was
down to nil, just like mine, and that last verbal shove was all it
took.

“Damnú ort!
It’s for you!” she suddenly shrieked, finally looking up as
she slammed the heels of her fists hard enough against the table to
make it shudder. “All right? It’s for you!”

I had only a brief moment to catch the
anguish on my wife’s face. Almost immediately following the loud
report of her hands against the pressboard, I heard the dull
metallic clunk of a deadbolt being thrown. Less than a second later
the door swung open. Embarrassment added itself to Felicity’s
pained features and she turned away.

I twisted my own head toward the new sound
just as the corrections officer who had been watching us filled the
opening. She was alert, eyes fixed on my wife, with one hand riding
on a holstered container of pepper spray at her hip.

“I think we might need to cut this visit
short,” she announced.

“No. Everything’s fine,” I told her.

“It didn’t look fine to me.”

“Really, it is,” I replied. “Just a little
emotional is all.”

“That’s exactly the problem, sir.”

“Look, it’s no big deal. And, I really need
to finish talking to my wife.”

She’d glanced over to me a few times, but
still kept a close watch on Felicity. “How about it, O’Brien? Are
we going to have any problems?”

Felicity gave her head a shake without
looking toward her.

“Words, O’Brien,” the officer pressed. “I
need to hear you say it.”

“No,” Felicity muttered just loud enough to
be heard. “No problems.”

The corrections officer waited a moment then
glanced toward me. “Okay, time’s almost up anyway.”

“Fifteen minutes, okay?” I asked.

“Five,” she replied.

“Ten?” I bargained.

“Five,” she repeated.

“Then go away,” I remarked as calmly as
I could, which wasn’t very. “You’re using up
my
time.”

She didn’t perpetuate the argument. She
simply swung the door shut and threw the lock.

I knew I wasn’t endearing myself to the
establishment, but that was a sacrifice I was going to have to live
with because if it meant saving my wife, it was more than worth
it.

I turned back to Felicity and discovered that
she’d again focused her stare on the surface of the table.

“Honey, look at me,” I urged.

It seemed that her stubbornness had fled for
the time being, and she slowly lifted her gaze back up to mine. I
studied her face quietly and felt my heart rend at the very sight.
What I hadn’t noticed in that split second before the corrections
officer interrupted was that her cheeks were wet and her already
bloodshot eyes were starting to swell even more. As was her way,
the reason she had been keeping her face hidden was that she’d been
silently crying this entire time. I should have known, and I mutely
cursed myself for not realizing it sooner.

I gave her a moment to gather herself then
lowered my frame back into the chair and stared across the table at
her. She was still avoiding direct eye contact, but I wasn’t going
to let that stop me.

“For me?” I finally said. “You know, that’s
funny, because I don’t recall having a divorce on my wish
list.”

“Don’t be glib, Rowan,” she sniffed. “This is
serious.”

“Oh, trust me, I know that.”

“Then don’t make jokes.”

“Aren’t you the one who just said a few
minutes ago that if you didn’t joke about it you’d cry?”

“Aye, and it mustn’t work, because crying is
obviously what I’ve been doing then, isn’t it?” she chided.

“Yes, it is. I’m just trying not to join
you.”

“Come on in,” she offered. “The more the
merrier.”

“Who’s making jokes now?”

She simply shrugged in reply.

“Uh-huh, well, I think I’ll pass. It’s not
really my kind of merry. So, you’ve been sitting here trying to
convince me you want a divorce, which we both know is a lie. And
now you’re telling me that it’s a gift for me. Well, here’s a news
flash. I’m returning it because I don’t want it.”

“Rowan…this is serious.”

“No kidding…Look, honey…I don’t know where
this is coming from, but it needs to stop. I feel like all I’ve
done since yesterday morning is argue with everyone in my path.
With some of them, it’s been for good reason, and others…Well, as
much as I hate to admit it, it’s just been because I’m mad at the
world right now.

“All I can tell you is that you are the one
person I don’t want to argue with…especially not now…so, the truth
is if I don’t treat this like a joke and laugh at it, my brain is
going to seize up because I’m all out of tears right now.”

“But, Rowan…”

“But what?”

“A divorce would be in your best interest,
then.”

My headache was still gaining ground. I took
off my glasses and laid them aside while I took a moment to rub my
eyes. After slipping the spectacles back onto my face, I folded my
hands in front of me and regarded her quietly.

After what seemed a long pause, I said,
“Okay, I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain that one.”

“Do you really want to visit me in prison?”
she appealed.

“No. But that’s a moot point because you
aren’t going to prison.”

“Be realistic.”

“I am.”

“Rowan…think about it…look at the evidence
they have.”

“I haven’t exactly been privy to much,” I
told her. “Especially since your lawyer won’t talk to me about
it.”

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I’ll tell Jackie to
get you back into the loop then.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“Well, either way, certainly by now you know
about the DNA evidence they have. Right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it was mentioned.”

“Well, the way I understand it, that’s pretty
bad.”

“I never said it wasn’t.”

“So, think about it. I must have done it. I
must have killed them.”

I shook my head at her. “You see, now I know
I didn’t just hear you say you killed those men.”

“I don’t know! I just don’t know,” she
snipped, finally looking me in the eyes. Then, as she lowered her
face once again, her voice became choked and almost whimpering. “I
can’t remember…I can’t…”

Fear suddenly thrust icy fingers into my
chest and took hold of my heart for a pair of beats.

“Felicity… Gods… Please tell me you didn’t
confess to these murders.”

“No, I didn’t,” she whispered.

“Then just what did you tell the police?”

“Nothing really. Jackie has been handling
it.”

“Good.” I let out a relieved sigh. “Let her.
That’s what she’s getting paid for.”

“But, what if…”

“We’ve discussed this, Felicity. There is no
what if.”

“I know we’ve talked about it, but listen to
me, Rowan. What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.”

“But…”

“Listen to me. You did
not
kill anyone.”

“How can you be so sure, especially when I’m
not?”

“I just am.”

“Rowan…”

“Honey, just think about it. If you had done
it, don’t you think someone on the other side would be slapping me
in the back of the head about now?”

“Aye, maybe they are and you’re ignoring
them,” she replied, still sniffling. “You’ve got a headache. I can
tell.”

“It’s not that kind of headache.”

“Liar.”

“You know, you’re going to give me a complex.
That’s the second time you’ve called me a liar in the past half
hour.”

“Only because it’s the second time you’ve
lied to me in that same half hour.”

“Must be losing my touch. You usually don’t
catch me.”

“No, I almost always catch you. I just
usually don’t say anything.”

“Yeah, well, maybe so, but that still doesn’t
change the fact that you’re innocent.”

“Aye, I wish I could be as certain of that as
you are.”

“Well, I’m going to have to ask you to work
on that because I need you to believe it as well.”

“I’ll try.”

“So…after all that, do you still want a
divorce?”

“No. I didn’t really want one to begin
with.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“But you might.”

I gave my head a frustrated shake. “I thought
we’d…”

“Just hear me out for a second,” she
interrupted.